


Return

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Martin returns, episode 134 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 09:36:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: SPOILERS FOR MAG 134!Return, verb:1. come back to a place or person.2. feel (the same feeling) in response.The Archives have...changedwhile Martin has been gone.





	Return

Martin was back, for whatever that was worth. He had given up on Peter's plan - it was too vague and against a threat too nebulous to continue torturing himself by staying distant from those he cared about. He didn't even think the man was angry with him for leaving, just amused to have met someone so lonely and yet so unsuited to being alone. Either way, he was not removing his protection over the Institute, simply searching for a new candidate who might be rather more useful to take Martin's place in carrying out his plans. So Martin was back, and he was back to stay.   
  
He wished he could be happier about it.   
  
The Archives had...  _ changed  _ in his absence. Daisy was back, and Melanie was rather less murderous than she had been, so that was good. Basira was... well, continuing down the path she had been on the last time Martin had spoken to her, but at least she was spending time with Daisy. Helen was hanging around more, too. Martin hadn't seen much of her before making his deal with Peter, only enough to apologize for not saving her when he and Tim were in the corridors, and for her to laugh and thank him for leaving her there.    
  
And Jon... Jon was  _ here. _ He was  _ here, _ and if Martin wanted to see him all he had to do was walk over and knock on the door of his office. And Jon was welcoming, and friendly, and trusting, and had built solid working relationships with practically everyone in the Archives. It should have all been good. Martin  _ should _ have been happy.    
  
And yet...   
  
Jon was welcoming, and friendly, and trusting, and had built solid working relationships with everyone in the Archives - except Martin.    
  
It was to be expected, really. Martin had been missing for so long, had barely even spoken to him since he had woken up, he couldn't expect to just waltz back in and be welcomed with open arms. Even after explaining everything, telling Jon  _ everything _ about what he had been doing and why, Jon just nodded quietly and apologized for not trusting him before. And then he'd called everyone else into his office, and they'd had a group discussion about how to proceed against this newest threat.    
  
Martin had hoped for more. He knew it was a foolish hope, but the way Jon had acted when he was gone... the way he had chased after him, finding him time and time again, telling him  _ I miss you _ and  _ I worry... _ Martin had hoped it meant something. Not romance - he wasn't that much of a fool - but friendship, at least.    
  
They had barely even talked since that first day, when Martin burst into Jon's office to give his statement. Jon was friendly enough, it was true. He asked Martin's input on ideas, thanked him for the help he offered, and even complimented the work he put into researching statements, which was an unexpected development.    
  
But they didn't  _ talk.  _   
  
That first day back, after he had explained what he knew and received unanimous agreement that abandoning Peter's plan was the right move, Martin had stayed behind when everyone else left. He had hoped to get a minute to talk to Jon alone. He had wanted to tell him... well, lots of things, but Jon had practically ignored him, busying himself with paperwork until Martin cleared his throat.    
  
Jon had frozen, then, hands stilling on the papers but refusing to look at Martin. And Martin... Martin was a coward, unsure of where they stood, so he fell back on an old script he knew he could always rely on.   
  
"I was going to make some tea. Do you want any?"   
  
He could have almost sworn Jon's hands had trembled, a little, on the papers he held, but his voice was quite steady when he replied.    
  
"That sounds lovely, Martin. Thank you."   
  
And that had been that.   
  
In the days since they had worked together; Martin had made tea; Jon had avoided his eyes; and they had not talked.    
  
The others in the Archives seemed not to have noticed.  _ They _ were talking to Jon all the time, each building a growing rapport with the man they had previously hated. They didn't notice Martin fading into the background, as lonely now as he had ever been, surrounded by people he would have given his life to protect and yet still alone.   
  
It was... painful. But Martin couldn't fault them for it. He'd done his fair share of pushing them away too. So he pasted on a smile whenever anyone glanced his way, returned Jon's awkward silences with even more awkward silence of his own, and buried himself in his work. 

~~~~~

It was the fifth evening after his return that everything changed.   
  
He and Jon were alone in the Archives; Basira and Daisy were walking together through the upper floors of the Institute, testing Daisy's legs on the stairs, and the yellow door on the wall next to Melanie's desk gave an indication of where she had disappeared to. Martin didn't understand how she could stand to be in those corridors for so long, but, well... as long as she was happy.  
  
Jon was locked in his office, as he was so often these days when Martin was the only other person around. At his own desk, up to his elbows in paperwork and doing his best not to stare at the closed door, Martin worked in silence.   
  
And so it was that he heard the faint sound drifting from Jon's office.   
  
_“So I would choose to be with you…”_  
  
Martin could have sworn his heart stopped in his chest. Jon was _singing._  
  
 _“That's if the choice were mine to make…”_  
  
He hadn't heard Jon sing since... god, he hadn't heard Jon sing since he'd been living in the Archives, and Jon had forgotten he was there one morning. He'd stopped dead outside the office, nearly dropping the teacups he was holding, and watched Jon quietly singing to himself as he flipped through the files on his desk. Jon had been flustered, of course, when he noticed Martin listening, using anger and irritation to mask his embarrassment. Martin could never find it in himself to regret the moment, though. It was probably the first time he realized his own feelings for the man.  
  
 _"But you can make decisions too..."_  
  
He'd forgotten how nice Jon's voice was. Without even realizing what he was doing, Martin found himself pushing away from his desk, making his way across the room to Jon's door. He didn't knock; he didn't open it; he didn't even lean his head against it in longing, though he very much wanted to. He just stood there, listening to Jon sing, trying to tell himself it was enough.   
  
_"And you can have this heart to break..."_  
  
Martin blinked back tears as the song trailed off. _God,_ but he missed Jon. And that was - ridiculous, wasn't it? He was _back,_ Jon was _awake,_ it was supposed to be _better._ And, well. Perhaps he had been too hopeful, on his return, about what Jon might feel for him. But he was still _here,_ he was still _alive,_ and even if Martin still wasn't his favorite person in the world - Martin had never let that stop him before.   
  
He pushed open the door.   
  
Jon was sitting behind his desk, a pile of statements in front of him, headphones settled over his ears. He startled as the door opened, jumping back in his chair and pushing the headphones off sharply.   
  
"Wh- oh. Martin." He relaxed again, tapping a button on his phone to shut off whatever music he had been listening to. "Can I help you?"  
  
Martin hesitated. He hadn't really thought this far ahead. "Um, I was just..." Probably best not to mention he had heard Jon singing; they were on fragile enough ground as it was. "I was wondering if there was anything I could help _you_ with, actually."  
  
Jon looked surprised. "I'm just going through statements, looking for evidence of this new power. I thought you were doing the same?"  
  
"Yeah, well..." Martin scratched the back of his neck, wondering how much he could say without putting Jon off. But this was about reaching out, wasn't it? So he had to reach out. "I was, um. I was wondering if it'd be okay if I worked on it in here? With you?"  
  
Thankfully, Jon didn't seem upset by this. Just confused. "Do you need my help? If there's anything in there in, in Spanish or something I could probably translate it for you."  
  
"No, it's just..." Honesty was the best policy, right? "I just... don't want to be alone."  
  
"Oh." Jon's eyes widened, and he nodded, slowly. "You... y-yes, I... Yes, of course, Martin, you can work in here." There was something in his voice that Martin didn't want to read into too much - something that echoed of _I miss you_ and _I worry_ \- but Martin had already seen his hopes dashed one too many times to let it raise them again.   
  
He fetched his chair, and his paperwork, and settled in across the desk from Jon.  
  
He could feel Jon glancing at him as they worked, the subtle pressure of being watched, and wondered what Jon was thinking about. Did he think Martin was weak for being so affected by his time with the Lonely? Was he pitying him? Or was he simply annoyed at having his workspace invaded by the man who had been pushing him away since he came back from the dead?  
  
After a few minutes Martin got sick of wondering. He glanced up at Jon, who didn't appear to be looking at him - though that faint pressure remained in the air, so perhaps he didn't have to _look_ to _see._   
  
"I wasn't trying to interrupt, you know."  
  
Jon looked up from his work - actually looked, this time. "Sorry?"  
  
"Your music. I wasn't trying to interrupt."  
  
"Oh, no, it's..." Jon flushed slightly. "It's not important. I don't usually put music on at all when I'm working, I was just trying to fill the silence."  
  
Curiosity overcame Martin's reticence. He gestured toward the phone. "Do you mind if I look?"  
  
Jon's flush deepened, but he still pushed the phone toward Martin. "Feel free."  
  
Martin smiled slightly as he picked it up. This was... progress. What sort, he didn't know, but it felt like progress. He scrolled through the playlist, raising an eyebrow at Jon's selection. _Last Goodbye, I Know It's Over, Goodbye My Lover..._ there seemed to be a fairly consistent theme to the songs.   
  
"Is this... Jon, is this a breakup playlist?"  
  
"What?" Jon blinked at him, seemingly dumbfounded for a moment. Then he frowned, contemplative. "Oh... y-yes, I suppose you could call it that."  
  
For all Martin's attempts to convince his heart to move on, that was still like a shard of ice right through his core.   
  
"Oh... I didn't even know you were dating someone."  
  
Jon laughed softly, picking up a pencil and fiddling with it. "No, I- we weren't- not officially. Not... not even unofficially, I suppose. We never quite... we didn't quite get that far. Still it... it hurt, when they left."  
  
"Ah." Martin fought back a spike of bitter jealousy. The heartbreak in Jon's voice was palpable, and he wished he could confront whoever put it there. Didn't they understand how important Jon was? How caring he could be under his prickly outer shell? How worthy of love? Jon wasn't his to defend, though. Jon wasn't his _anything._ "I'm sorry."  
  
"It's alright, Martin. It... it's probably better this way, anyway. I'm not... not the best at relationships. Better to not even risk it, just stay... friends."  
  
That implied Martin knew the person Jon was talking about. He didn't have many friends. So who...? Oh. Of course.   
  
"Well, you managed to make it work before, right? Maybe it's not too late, this time."  
  
"Before? What do you mean?"  
  
Martin shrunk slightly in his chair. He really didn't want to have to spell this out for Jon. Bad enough to never even have a chance to be with him - a million times worse to have to play wingman.  
  
"W-well. You know. With Georgie. She- she told me you two used to date, and I know she hasn't been around, Jon, but that doesn't necessarily mean she doesn't care. You should talk to her."  
  
Jon looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "I'm not talking about Georgie." He paused, brow furrowed. "Wait, when did you even meet her?"  
  
"When you were... in hospital." Jon nodded. "She visited you a lot. We... we had a lot of time to talk." Jon seemed about to speak, but the rest of what he had said finally processed and Martin spoke again before he could. "Wait, if you're not talking about Georgie than who-"  
  
"It's- it's not important, Martin." Jon waved a hand, brushing aside the question. "None of this is... it's not important. Like I said, we never even got that far. It's not like there's anything to rebuild, when there was nothing in the first place."  
  
"Then build something new." Jon was visibly upset by the conversation, and Martin hated to see that. He wanted to see Jon happy, even if it was with someone else. Even if it hurt. "If- if you _care_ about this person, Jon, whoever they are, you should fight for that. Whatever it was that made them leave... you never know. It might not be too late to get them back."  
  
"I'd appreciate the advice, Martin, but... I think the very fact that you're pushing me toward someone else is indication enough that you no longer feel the same."  
  
Martin's thoughts ground to a halt. Had Jon just said...? No. No, it _couldn't_ be...   
  
_I miss you..._  
  
And the way Jon kept looking at him, these past few days. Distant, but in a way that spoke of uncertainty rather than uncaring. Martin had been reading it all wrong. He forced himself to speak, words tangling with each other in a rush to say them all.   
  
"Wh- wait, what are you- _me?"_  
  
Jon sighed. _"Yes,_ Martin, _you._ I- I'm sorry. I _know_ I'm too late, I just... these things take me awhile, and by the time I realize what I've got..." he gestured, helplessly, at Martin. "It's gone."  
  
"Too la- Jon, do you- do you _really think-"_ Martin leaned forward, gripping the edge of Jon's desk with both hands to steady himself. He felt shaky, unbalanced. Like his whole world had been turned upside down. "Do you _honestly think,_ that after _all_ of this, _everything_ we've done and been through together, do you _really think-"_ he took a deep breath, "-that it would ever be _'too late?'"_  
  
It was Jon's turn to freeze, and he stared at Martin with wide eyes.  
  
"What- b-but you- I don't- you've _clearly-"_  
  
"You really think I've _moved on?"_ Martin was practically shouting, shock overriding any hesitation he might have felt at the start of the conversation.   
  
_"Y-yes!"_ Jon's face was a mask of bafflement, and Martin probably would have found it adorable if not for the pain that underlay his voice. "Why wouldn't you have? I'm not- I was _gone,_ and there was no reason for you to- and then you kept pushing me away and I thought-"  
  
"Jon." Martin put both hands flat on the desk, steadying himself in the hope that it would steady Jon as well. "I _told_ you. I had to stay away because that was part of my original deal with Peter. If I had started spending too much time with people, he was going to stop protecting the Institute. Believe me when I tell you it got a hell of a lot harder to keep up my end of the bargain once you woke up."  
  
"But..."  
  
"It _hurt,_ Jon. I felt like I was stabbing myself in the chest every time I had to leave you, but it was _worth_ it, as long as you were safe." He dug his fingers into the desk, breath catching with the echoes of the pain. "And then you went into that coffin, and I didn't- I couldn't-" he exhaled, sharply. "Peter didn't _do_ anything, and all I could do was stack tapes. I felt like _I_ was dying, Jon, all over again because you were gone and there was _nothing_ I could do." A moment to gather his thoughts, then: "So yes, Jon. I've been avoiding you. But if you think for _one second_ that that means my feelings for you have changed... well, you're _badly_ mistaken."  
  
"Martin..." Jon's voice shook, and his hands shook, and his eyes were filled with tears. Martin pushed off from the desk, standing and taking a few quick steps around to Jon's side. He held out his hand.  
  
"I'm here, Jon."  
  
Jon grabbed his hand, pulling himself from his chair and straight into Martin's embrace. He was shaking, breath hitching in a way that was not quite sobbing, yet. Martin held him tightly, partly to disguise his own shaking and party from the fear that this moment would disappear if he didn't cling to it. He turned his head slightly, whispering into Jon's ear.  
  
"I'm sorry. I should have said something that first day I came back. I _wanted_ to say something, I just... didn't know how."  
  
Jon laughed into his shoulder, a soft huff of breath that had Martin's own breath catching in his throat.   
  
"Don't apologize, Martin. This one's on me, I should have... I was _trying_ to be considerate, trying to give you the space I thought you wanted... I should have just told you how I felt. It... in hindsight, it was stupid of me to assume the distance was something you actually desired."  
  
"It's alright, Jon. I'd have probably done the same, in your place."  
  
Jon sighed into his shoulder, tightening his hold on Martin. His shaking had died down somewhat, but he didn't seem inclined to let go any time soon. Martin couldn't blame him, being in much the same position himself. Still, though...  
  
He pulled back slightly, keeping his arms locked around Jon's back but bringing them face-to-face. Jon made a slight noise of protest at the movement, which was quickly followed by one of surprise when Martin kissed him.   
  
It was a quick kiss; Martin pressed his lips to Jon's for the briefest instant before breaking it off, still not quite believing that his feelings were reciprocated. Jon blinked at him, eyes wide and lips slightly parted, and for a moment Martin feared he'd overstepped, pushing too fast - but then Jon's hand was in his hair and he was getting dragged back in for another, much longer kiss, and this time it was _Jon_ pushing forward, _Jon_ taking the initiative, _Jon_ holding him close enough it felt like he'd never let go, and Martin let himself get lost in the sensation of hands and lips and a heartbeat pressed close to his own.  
  
Much, much later, after desperate newness turned to familiarity, turned to slow, lazy kisses traded amidst quiet conversation about all that had occurred, Martin dragged his chair around the desk close enough to Jon's that their shoulders could brush as they worked.   
  
He could still feel Jon glancing at him occasionally, the slight shift in the way he was sitting as he turned to look at Martin. Martin smiled, leaning into his shoulder as he made a notation on the statement he was reading. Jon leaned back, then turned to press a kiss to his shoulder on the place he had been resting.  
  
"I missed you."  
  
"You too." Martin reached out to grab Jon's hand, giving it a brief squeeze before turning back to his work. Then:  
  
"Really, though? _‘Last Goodbye’?_ Isn't that a _bit_ overdramatic?"

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [cuttooth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuttooth) and [Mad_Maudlin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Maudlin) for the playlist suggestions! The songs mentioned are:
> 
> "Last Goodbye" by Jeff Buckley  
> "I Know It's Over" by The Smiths  
> "Goodbye My Lover" by James Blunt  
> Jon is singing "And So It Goes" by Billy Joel.


End file.
